Serenade
by I am the Cake Fairy
Summary: Did it ever occur to him that Vexen might have added a little chemical mixture to his coffee that caused him to burst into song whenever he saw his true love?  No.  Because that story is for hopeless paranoid romantics.  [Zemyx][Three shot]
1. Breakfast

Zexion was tired. Well, not tired, per se, but groggy. He wasn't a morning person. Well, sometimes he was, but that was only when he spent the whole night awake and therefore was not dampened by the sense of grogginess that assumed position within his head every morning after being awoken by the morning bell. Oh, how he hated that morning bell. Oh, how he wished that morning bell would just drop dead, but not before suffering from an eternity of rust. Of course, that eternity would have already happened before he had joined (formed, whatever!) the Organization.

To put things in a more understandable sense, Zexion needed his coffee in order to act like the brilliant, reasonable, and certainly not random Nobody we all know and love. Well, not love, exactly, more like fear and respect. Or something.

So there he was, sitting in his seat at the table from which the Organization members feasted (upon the flesh of the living! Not really), clutching a cup of coffee in his hands. What did this cup look like? Well, it was a nice shade of lilac that matched his hair perfectly (except the cup wasn't emo) and had blue words on it. What were the words? "Number One Grandma." Zexion liked to go yard-saling on the Saturdays he got off.

By that time in the morning, only a few of the members were not at the table. Larxene wasn't there, but that was understandable; saying good morning to one's knife collection was essential. Marluxia wasn't there, but that too was understandable; he had to be sure that his hair was THE best out of all the other members' (however, Zexion had to disagree; lilac was better than a dirty pink any day). But Demyx wasn't there. That was semi-understandable. There were several reasonable explanations for why Demyx was not stuffing his mouth with various types of breakfast food, one of course being the practicing of his gui—sitar. The practicing of his sitar, which is in no way a guitar. Another explanation would have been that he slept in. But that wasn't nearly as excusable.

The lilac haired male (whose hair was parted and cut so it covered the right fifty percent of his face, making it decidedly and stylishly emo) had just taken a sip (large, tongue-burning, throat-smoldering gulp) of his special French vanilla roast (he was very precise when it came to his morning caffeine dosage) when the sitarist bounded very happily into the dining area.

"Hello and good morning my peoples!" he greeted, his grammar very screwed indeed. Demyx had chosen this day to completely ignore the dress code, and went all out with his attire; a bright blue shirt and black pants that both looked too tight to be legal in the state of Alabama (nearly as illegal as a male publicly wearing a strapless gown in Miami), and a lovely pair of orange fishnet gloves. To say it looked absolutely fabulous would be half wrong; wrong, in the sense that it completely destroyed all laws of fashion, and right in the sense that it was very fabulous indeed (fabulous being stereotypically a gay word). So, summing it all up, Demy-kins looked very (enticingly, to the point of view of a certain lilacly emo-behaired member at the table, who oh so conveniently was too groggy to be in denial) gay.

Thus explaining why the certain lilacly emo-behaired member suddenly stood up and, in all his proud Nobody glory, sang,

"Hey Demy, you so fine, you so fine you blow my mind. Hey Demy, 'ey, 'ey, hey Demy!"

Thus also explaining the sudden dead silence that followed like a love-sick puppy does to its crush; very, very, closely.

Why did the dead silence fall so quickly? Well it certainly wasn't because the lilac emo-behaired member (whose name is Zexion, got it memorized?) sang like some sick walrus with nasal congestion; in fact, he had quite a lovely voice. Was it because of the song he had sung? Possibly. Was it because of the song he had sung, at the person who he had sung it to? Most definitely.

Because if there was one thing more definite than the fact that Nobodies didn't have hearts, was the fact that Zexion did not sing twisted love songs at Demyx. It just wasn't done.

And so Zexion, the poor confused what-ever-the-hell-he-is (be it preteen, teen, young adult, adult, or creepy old stalker-man), looked around a bit after his sudden coffee slash Demyx induced singing, before looking down at his coffee, muttering, "No more coffee for me," and walking off, most like to his room to get more sleep, or read.

This sudden (seemingly random) outburst from one of the quietest members left the rest of the Organization in a bit of a confused mess. Xemnas sat at his chair, wondering if he should reprimand Zexion with one of his pre-rehearsed lectures about them being Nobodies, and having no hearts, then realizing that the effect would be very minimal seeing as the lilac haired male had said 'mind' not 'heart.' Xigbar was grinning evilly to himself, thinking of the seemingly endless amounts of taunts he could get from this experience. Xaldin was thinking of way to keep Xigbar in line. Vexen was obsessing over one of the new chemical reactions he discovered (Xigbar kept saying that he was sexually aroused by it, but the Chilly Academic would say that he only got a hard-on because he was thinking of pretty women with large breasts; no one believed him). Lexaeus…well, we don't exactly know what he was thinking, but it was probably somewhere along the lines of…Zexion is crazy, and needs some serious therapy. Saix was thinking of various ways to kiss up to Xemnas. Axel…you don't want to know what Axel was thinking, but it was about Roxas, and involved chocolate syrup. Luxord was sorting out the chances of Zexion getting laid later that night, and was being further confused by seeing no negative nor positive reaction on Demyx's face. Larxene was thinking…well, she wasn't there. Nor was Marluxia. But Roxas was, and he was trying to avoid the looks Axel was sending him.

The only thing going through Demyx's mind while he stuffed pancake in his mouth was that Zexion's voice was nice, but it'd sound better alongside a sitar. His sitar, preferably, because we all know how many sitarists there are in the Organization.

One.

And that was him.

Oh yes, such tough competition.

But what was Zexion thinking at that moment? Well, it was hard to tell, but as the lilac-haired man walked hastily down the dull hallways of the Organization's residence, the one thought that was resounding throughout his mind was, "I either need more sleep, or to stop sleeping in the first place." Why? Because he pinned this little…experience on being far too groggy to think.

Did it ever occur to him that Vexen might have added a little chemical mixture to his coffee that caused him to burst into song whenever he saw his true love?

No.

Because that story is for hopeless paranoid romantics who have no love-life to speak of and feel the need to make up their own.

They're pathetic.

* * *

_The author-ess has issues that she needs to assess with a psychologist. Or a psychiatrist. But not a therapist. Because she says so._

_The author-ess was in no way referring to herself in the second to last statement in the story. Nope. No way. Huh-uh. Cha._

_This is the first part in a three-shot. Why? Because the author-ess is bored and needs something to fill up the six hours between now and seven am, when she's supposed to be getting up to walk._

_Being the nice author-ess she is, she does not feel the need to tell the readers how the story came to mind. So, what with the story being prewritten, once the author-ess gets … __**four**__ reviews, she will post the next chapter. Four more reviews (thus equaling eight in total) will get ya the last chapter._

_Savvy?_

_Kingdom Hearts is not the author-ess'. Zexion is Demyx's, and Demyx is Zexion's. The author-ess has no clue who owns "Hey Mickey" so whoever sings it owns it. Not her. Yaaaahh……_


	2. Lunch

It was lunch time. How did Zexion know it was lunch time? Well the bell (who was soon to o to hell; a hell that was filled with such horrid rhymes that not even the most sinister of bells could ring-a-ling at, it was just that hellish) had rung, echoing throughout the near-empty halls of the Organization's residence, thus signaling that it was, in fact, lunch time. Damn the bell. Digressing. Why were the halls nearly empty? Well, they would have been empty if, not for Zexion, who was standing by a wall, repeatedly hitting his forehead against said wall, trying to make sure that he was no longer groggy, because if he was groggy, that would be bad. Because Zexion, for one, did not like bursting into song every time…well, he just didn't.

If Zexion had said he did not like bursting into song every time he saw Demyx, then he would have been agreeing with the theory that Vexen had put something into his coffee earlier that morning that made him burst into song every time he saw his true love; Zexion did not want to make it appear that he was a paranoid romantic (or that he was in love with Demyx…WHICH HE WASN'T), so he therefore dismissed every such suggestion.

After making sure that his was sufficiently not-groggy (the poor wall was bruised quite badly), Zexion made his way calmly down the hall, heading for the dining area, which was oh so conveniently located near to where he was hitting his forehead. Very few of the members ever went to lunch; Xemnas was too busy plotting, and pre-rehearsing; thus, Saix was never at the table when lunch was severed. Xaldin was usually out completing missions, and Vexen was locked away in his lab; Lexaeus ate in his room most of the time. Axel and Roxas would sometimes come down to dine, but were thrown out once Axel began molesting Roxas. Marluxia had apparently stolen some of Larxene's teen girl magazines and (after reading that guys digged skinny girls) had declared that he wasn't going to eat unless it was breakfast or dinner. No one knew why; it was painfully obvious he was the only straight guy in the Organization, after having hooked up with Larxene. Larxene was saying good after noon to her collection of knives.

Thus leaving Xigbar, Zexion, Demyx, and Luxord. Xigbar, Demyx, and Luxord all came down to eat and socialize and generally put off their work until later (also known as procrastinating); Zexion came down to eat so he wouldn't be prodded in the ribs, and teased for being anorexic, which he wasn't. He also wanted to get a nice glass of milk. Why? Did he like milk? No; in fact, he hated it. He just wanted to get tall, dammit.

By the time Zexion had reached the dining area, Axel and Roxas had been booted out, signaling that he was therefore approximately five minutes late. Demyx was not yet in the room, showing that he was less than teen minutes late. Being all smart and whatnot, and finding averages, Zexion was about seven and a half minutes late. Xigbar chuckled in a manly fashion at him (because giggling like a school girl was not in character for our dear gravity defying friend), most likely because of his little disturbance at breakfast; Luxord looked up at him boredly before returning his attention to his game of solitaire, despite the fact that Xemnas had told him time after time not to have cards at the table ("Well he's not here, so who's to stop me now, eh?"). He had some fish and chips, except they weren't chips; they were fries. Really. Who names fries chips? Clearly not Americans. Zexion sniffed at them like the stuck up snob he wasn't but sometimes acted like, but then wished he hadn't; he clutched him nose in disgust as he inhaled Xigbar's man-fumes (or what was more commonly known as cologne).

He pouted (or the Zexion equivalent of one) and sat in his chair. Not Lexaeus'. Not Saix's. _His_ chair. It had his name on it. He pulled an empty plate in front of him and began piling it with food. Well, not piling exactly, more like placing a dinky sandwich and some tomato slices on the plate, and begin daintily poking the tomato before lifting it to his mouth and biting. He poured himself some milk, bracing himself, and took a long gulp. It was for the height. It was for the height. DAMMIT HE WANTED TO BE TALLER.

"Hello and good afternoon my peoples!" It was at that moment that Demyx decided to enter, once more in his dress-code regulated coat; however, the coat was slightly unzipped at the top, and he had conveniently forgotten to wear an undershirt. Well, convenient for Zexion at least.

Seeing Demyx stride into the dining area, Zexion immediately stood (nearly tipping the chair in the process) and—

"You don't have to be rich, to be my girl," he sand in a voice that was previously unknown to mankind (it was known to womankind, though). "You don't have to be cool, to rule my world! I just want your extra time, and your…kiss!"

Whatever conversation Xigbar had been holding with himself had shriveled away once Zexion had stood, and was completely dry and dead by the end of this little situation, leaving the black-and-grey streaked haired man with a large, nearly predatory grin on his face. Luxord had looked up from his card game, looked at his own glass of milk, before shoving it away, looking disgusted, and mumbling, "Damn thing's expired."

Really, any reasonable person would have thought that. Zexion, quiet, not-random Zexion, had jumped to his feet and begun singing Prince after drinking some milk. Who wouldn't have thought the milk was expired? That's right. No one in the Organization (except Demyx, but that was excusable, considering he had looked impressed at the lilac haired male's voice) who had more than three hundred thirteen brain cells (thus also excusing Demyx).

Zexion, our poor, confused Zexion, looked down at his milk, then up at Demyx, then immediately walked out the door. Demyx looked after him for a bit before shrugging and sitting down to his own lunch. After less than a minute, Zexion trudged back in, grabbed his plate with the sandwich on it, and left with a last mumble of, "I'm getting my food this time, dammit." He had left breakfast before devouring anything, and was particularly hungry.

Demyx, for the benefit of the doubt, acted as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't purposely drugged Zexion into bursting into song every time he saw the blond mullhawketed sitarist. And as far as the rest of the Organization knew, he didn't. Because if he did do, it would require him knowing exactly when Zexion would have entered the dining area. It would also have required he have access to some big high-tech lab, which he did not; Vexen had learned early on that Demyx plus chemicals equals OH GOD NO.

Xigbar looked as if he could squeal in joy; not because of the fact hat he had just witnessed a possible boy love scene, but because he now had double the blackmail he had had earlier that day. Oh, life was good for the gravity-defying dude who looked as if he been a pirate for Halloween. The eyepatch. And the scars.

Luxord had continued on with his card game, while really he was upping the chances of Zexion getting laid. Yes, the chances were in Zexion's favor.

Xemnas was still rehearsing his lectures, and Roxas was threatening Axel with sleeping on the couch for the next month if he didn't BACK THE HELL OFF. But they don't matter. Because they weren't at lunch.

But Zexion does matter. Because he was a lunch. In fact, he was the reason the incident at lunch was important. He figured that the reason he had acted so…strangely, was because he had hit his head one too many times on the poor, mentally scarred and physically bruised wall. Because he was still denying the fact that Vexen had slipped him something that caused him to burst into song every time he saw his true love.

Because that's just silly.

And besides, Nobodies don't feel love.

Despite the fact that emotions have nothing to do with the heart, and in fact are completely controlled by some obscure part of the brain_  
_

* * *

_Bwahaha! Part Two! Four more reviews, duckies, and Part Three is yours!_

_Alerting is being a bitch, and won't go to the author-ess' email, so sorry if this is a tad bit late... _

_LoLz, the author-ess is having too much fun. Whatever song by Prince that is in here (the author-ess has forgotten the title) is not hers, and neither is Kingdom Hearts, but you knew that._


	3. Dinner

After his extremely filling peanut butter-honey sandwich (note sarcasm), Zexion did what he did every day; researched. Yes, he researched. But that is where the similarities between this day and every other day of the year end. Why? Because Zexion wasn't researching hearts. No. He was looking up song lyrics on Google. Well, that's what his excuse was anyway. Really he was in this chat-room called Square Enix (what a stupid name!) talking with this dude online whose screen-name was 7h3K3ybl4d3m4s73r, who sounded very n00bish indeed.

**7h3K3ybl4d3m4s73r**- w00t, hi!

**xXxCloakedSchemerxXx**- hello

**7h3K3ybl4d3m4s73r**- dude, u r so emo!

**xXxCloakedSchemerxXx**- No, I am not.

**7h3K3ybl4d3m4s73r**- yeah u r, jus look at ur name, n all the Xs

**xXxCloakedSchemerxXx**-…do you even know what emo is?

**7h3K3ybl4d3m4s73r**- uh…

**xXxCloakedSchemerxXx**- …I fear my IQ has dropped ten points since I began talking to you.

**xXxCloakedSchemerxXx** has signed off.

**7h3K3ybl4d3m4s73r**- wel wut am i suposd 2 do now?

**Blindfoldedlies** has signed on.

**Blindfoldedlies**- I hate the world. Nobody understands me.

**7h3K3ybl4d3m4s73r**- its ok buddy im here 4 u (less than 3)

Zexion snickered at the stupidity of some people. Or, in this 7h3K3yblahblahblah's case, the apparent lack of attention span. It was a good thing that weirdo wasn't going to be relied upon to save the world anytime soon. God, then the worlds would be doomed with no chance of survival. Zexion paused to take a moment to envision some freak with a stupid key-like blade and gravity defying hair. Probably had a friend who crossed into the Darkness too. And a girl with a gay key-sword thing with flowers and ribbons and all that other junk that girls (and Marluxia) seemed to like so much. Zexion snorted at the absurdity of this.

He signed out of his instant messenger, and shut the computer down, but not before clearing the history, so no one would know he liked _those_ kinds of sites. You would never expect Zexion to be one of _those_ kinds of people. I mean really! Would you suspect Zexion, Mister Emotionless Emo Man of the Year, to be a professional birdwatcher? Thought so.

Having a couple of minutes to spare before dinner, Zexion decided to catch up on his reading. Glancing about his room, as if he were about to pull out one of his deepest and darkest secrets and someone was known to spy on him, he reached under his mattress and pulled out a small-medium sized hardback book; the cover had a portion of a flag on it, being an odd combination of solid blue with white stars, an white stripe, then a red stripe. The title read "Wide Awake". Now why Zexion was reading a book about a gay teenaged boy who was talking about serious political issues in the future America dealing with anti-gays and anti-non-Christians, we will never know, but judging by the speed he read the book, and the way he eagerly turned each page made it clear he liked it.

Then the bell (which would slowly burn in the Cracks of Doom if it didn't shut up fast) rang, signaling that it was once more Happy Family Bonding Time. Also known as, Let's Please Try To Not Kill Each Other And Focus Our Energies On Digesting Whatever Whoever Was Volunteered To Cook Tonight's Lovely Meal—OH MAH GAWD IS THAT SHIT MOVING?! Oh how Zexion loved dinner. Almost as much as he loved the bell. They shall both burn in hell.

Zexion pouted, but slowly marked his place in the book with a pink sparkly bookmark (Marluxia forced him to use it, honest!) before he slipped it beneath his mattress once more. Much like a ninja, but not quite, Zexion slipped out of his room, locking the door behind him. He always locked his door. If he didn't he faced the threat of Axel sauntering in (when not being entertained by Roxas) and burning his precious personal library to itty bitty bits of ash, which was bad. He also faced the threat of…various…other…bad things…happening, and that would be bad too. Thus being the reason why bad things are called bad things. Because they're bad. Bad things are bad. Anyway. The lilac emo-behaired young (or however old he was, we'll never know) man inconspicuously pulled out the collar of his robe and dropped the key to his room down the dark portal; miraculously, it didn't fall out the bottom. Probably because the fabric was so gosh-darned form fitting, and hugged the hips.

He sauntered coolly down the hallway, as aloof as ever, and not talking. Not like there was anyone to talk to, but still. He was silent.

Until he entered the dining room.

Apparently Larxene had cooked that night; they were having macaroni and cheese (extra cheesy). Everyone was already at the table; Xemnas appeared to be basking in the steady flow of compliments Saix sent his way; Xigbar and Xaldin were arguing over something…or another; Lexaeus was gently trying to pry some tube of chemicals out of Vexen's grasp; Luxord was stealthily playing uno on his handheld electronic uno game; Axel was bugging Roxas who looked like he was doing his best to ignore the pyromaniac; Marluxia and Larxene were debating which was better, Herbal Essence (ahh!) or Suave. And then there was Demyx, who appeared to have just gotten back from swimming. _So…wet…_

"Everynight in my dreams, I see you, I feel you. That is how I know you go on. Far across the distance and spaces between us, you have come to show you go on. Near, far, wherever you are, I believe that the heart does go on. Once more, you open the door, and you're here in my heart, and my heart will go on and on. Love can touch us one time and last for a lifetime, and never lets go 'til we're gone…" The next thing Zexion knew, he was standing in the middle of the dining room table, blasting out his voice as strongly as he could at the bemused blond sitarist. He continued on. "You're here, there's nothing I fear, and I know that my heart will go on! We'll stay forever this way, you are safe in my heart and my heart will go on and on!"

Once more, the silence fell like a curtain at the end of a play. Actually, that was a pretty good comparison, considering the other twelve members of the Organization were watching Zexion as if he were an actor on the stage. Xemnas looked quite shocked that Zexion, of all people, appeared to be preaching his love to Demyx, and using references of having a heart so blatantly.

"That fool! He knows we have no hearts! Not only that, but due to lack of hearts, we cannot feel love, despite the fact that feeling emotions has nothing to do with the heart, but instead derives from a part of our brains!"

Xigbar was happy indeed; three blackmail chances in one day! Woo-hoo! Xaldin was…crying?!

"He has such a lovely voice," he murmured, pressing the linen table cloth to his cheeks.

Vexen was…well, he had disappeared sometime between the beginning of the serenade, and the end, and had taken his chemicals with him. Lexaeus looked confused; he had been like a big brother to Zexion, and let him tell you something: Zexion had never, for as long as big brother Lex had known, had that strong a voice. Saix…was going to agree with whatever Xemnas was going to say wholeheartedly…excuse the pun. Axel was in his own little world, wondering if Roxas would like him to do something like that to win the blonde's affections. Luxord was so surprised, he nearly lost his uno game. Nearly. Not quite. He still won. Marluxia seemed quite apathetic towards the whole thing; he was probably thinking something along the lines of, "I could have done better." Larxene looked…sadistic, but that was normal. Roxas was praying that Axel didn't try anything like that on him.

And that left our little blond mullhawketed sitarist.

And our little blond mullhawketed sitarist was quite impressed indeed.

Before Zexion who jump off the table and scurry, scurry away, much like a little mousy-kins, Demyx reached out and gripped his wrist, pulling the lilac hair man towards him. With a twist of luck, and some serious aerodynamic maneuvers, Zexion, surprisingly-yet-unsurprisingly, found himself incapacitorially placed and/or located quite comfortably snuggled into Demyx's torso, his legs straddling the sitarist's hips.

"You have a beautiful voice," Demyx whispered…seductively? into Zexion's ear; he shuddered. "But it would sound much better when accompanied by a sitar…"

Zexion, though still doubting the theory that Vexen had drugged him with something that caused him to burst into song every time his fell upon his true love, he was willing to go along with it.

For now_  
_

* * *

_Sob. The author-ess is so happy! It's like seeing your baby go off to college, knowing that you've sent your own flesh and blood unto the world to do good. However the author-ess would have no idea what that feels like, what with her being…younger than average college age herself._

_DAMMIT THE AUTHOR-ESS WANTS TO SEE TITANIC NOW! D8_

_Done done done! The author-ess is DONE. With this at least…the author-ess slinks back to finish Camis. Oh yah: the author-ess doesn't only anything that Disney owns, nor does she own Titanic's theme song: My Heart Will Go On, though she wishes she does._


End file.
